


As Rare As Starblossom Wine

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant ish, Drinking, F/M, Han and Lando are pretty cute together actually, M/M, One Shot, POV Leia Organa, Romantic Fluff, Stranger Sex, Strangers to Lovers, boba fett is sexiest in a towel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: While visiting Cloud City, Leia accidentally stumbles upon Han with someone else. Good thing that there's a mysterious stranger waiting only a room away...A one-shot with a dash of heat!





	As Rare As Starblossom Wine

**Author's Note:**

> A friend challenged me to see if I could make a one-shot, as-close-to-canon-compliant Boba/Leia fic. I took the challenge and ran with it!  
> Comments are ALWAYS very warmly welcomed!

Cloud City felt a little bit like a dream to Leia. Not the sort of dream that one wanted to have, but the sort one couldn’t wake from. It swirled around her like waters in a pool that she’d dove too deep into. Reality lay on the other side of the surface, just out of reach, and reflected back to her all hazy.

This was all Han’s fault.

As most things seemed to be, these days.

Although the attraction, that, she had to admit was mutual. The way he’d kissed her, the way his callused hands had roamed over her body…

Leia blushed, though she was alone in the hall. 

But was she alone because it was nighttime, or because there was something else going on? Something she’d been kept away from, shepherded away from seeing, the way her father used to block her from eavesdropping on political conversations.

But just like then, being denied something only made her want it more.

She wandered down the cold white hall, her cape fluttering against her ankles. Han had gone missing a few hours ago. He’d stepped out of their room, and not come back.

Just like Threepio had disappeared…

She shivered suddenly, wrapping her arms around her chest. The outfit Lando had given her was lovely, but warmth was only an afterthought in its design. Maybe she should have changed back into what she’d worn on Hoth. 

Maybe they should have stayed on Hoth. Found a way to fight back. Found a way to win.

She replayed that battle over and over, as she stalked through the halls, wishing it had gone differently. Refusing to believe failure was the only option. Luke would tell her it wasn’t a failure if he was here. Luke would also not have let her go wandering through the halls of Cloud City alone at midnight either.

Then again, Luke would certainly have gotten in the way of some of the very fun, very naughty things she and Han had done in the shadowy corners of the Falcon… L eia blushed again and was surprised at the strength of her daydream. It almost sounded like Han’s short, shallow moans of delight were echoing through the hall just then.

A moment later, when Leia turned the corner, she realized it was no daydream.

Those moans were real.

And they were matched by the whimpers of Lando, pressed up against a wall by none other than the man Leia had started to think of as her lover. Han had more of his clothes on, at least from the back, but it was very, very, clear, what he and Lando were up to. 

That disappearance seemed a lot less sinister now. 

And much more embarrassing.

Leia turned suddenly, fleeing the scene, just as Lando called out Han’s name in ecstasy. Her hand slammed on a door button, praying for it to open, for there to be an escape, anywhere away from hearing those noises.

Han loved Lando.

She heard him say it, just as the door opened with a whoosh. Heard him say it once more as the door shut behind her. In the echo, in her heart, she knew Han had meant it. Just as surely as she knew that she wouldn't have meant those three words, if she'd ever said them to him.  
Which was perhaps, why neither of them had ever tried those words.

* * *

 

Once inside the dark room, Leia pressed her hands to her eyes, trying to forget the moments before. She had no problem with what two consenting men did with each other, of course, and had, truth be told, indulged in watching a few holovids of two men… or more, when she was a younger woman.

A short, callous laugh escaped her. A younger woman? Who was she kidding? Her twentieth birthday had only been a few weeks ago. 

She took a deep breath, calming herself. It was her fault for believing she and Han… were what? Some sort of monogamous thing? Had they ever even used those words? Of course not. They’d been on a ship with only droids and a wookie for company.

If Han was happy with Lando, truly, completely happy in a way she wasn’t sure the smuggler could ever be, then she would fault him nothing. Leia nodded, proud of herself for being able to be the mature one in this relationship.

Or whatever it was.

She was about to leave, when a man, wearing only a towel slung low around his hips, appeared from a door on the other side of the room.

Leia, embarrassed all the way to her toes for the second time in ten minutes, could not move.

The man was incredibly well-built, all lean muscles and coiled power. More fit than even  Han was since the smuggler had a frame that was a little more skin-and-bones than this man, who looked as if he could fist fight an entire ship of mercenaries and come out the victor.

The man stared at her. “The door was locked.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Leia retorted, quickly. Her cheeks burned. She should leave. Now. Nownownow. But her feet didn’t move. “I was trying to get away. I, um, walked in on a couple… coupling.” 

Leia, famous for being a cool-under-pressure-diplomat at the age most girls were still playing dress-up, rambled in front of this very naked, very attractive man.

He rubbed his face with one hand. The action made the towel drop dangerously low.

Not that she was looking, of course. 

“Calrissian and that pilot, yeah?” he said. “They’ve been going at it for an hour.”

That did nothing to reduce her blush. “Maybe… they’ll be gone now?”

He shrugged. 

The damn towel dropped another fraction of an inch. Leia tried not to stare at the V of muscle leading down to…

Best not to think of that.

Best not to think of anything, really.

She lifted her gaze up to his eyes, to find him still regarding her with almost… a bit of humor in them? There was something in his otherwise guarded face that suggested just the smallest bit of goodwill.

Then his dark eyebrow arched up, and she knew he had been amused, and was now, even more so. His hair was dark too, thick and quite curly, though it was close-cropped to his head, a good haircut for a soldier. Because she couldn’t imagine him being anything else. Not with the way he stood or the blaster burns on one arm. He must be a member of Lando’s private security.

Maybe she should ask him what happened to Threepio. But for once, Leia didn’t feel like unraveling secrets or demanding answers. She’d just wanted Han, tonight. And Han had wanted someone else.

Leia sighed, rubbing her face with a hand.

“I don’t drink,” the man said. “But you look like you could use one tonight.”

Leia laughed, bitterly. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a picky drunk.” She had never gained the taste for anything except for the smooth and sweet wines of her home, a taste now gone to her, like so much else. 

“A woman like you?” The dark eyebrow arched again, as he added, flatly. “I’m shocked.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She put her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. 

He made a gesture to her outfit. Her hands stayed on her hips. Finally, he said, “you look expensive.”

“Good thing I’m not for sale!” she snapped, her face as red as the tunic of the outfit Lando had given her. That made her pause. Lando and Han had meant no harm to her. The man had been welcoming. Kind. Flattering. Perhaps both of them had thought their desire never to be returned, and tried to make the best of it. 

The stranger’s lips pressed together for one moment, the way someone does when they’re trying to hold in a laugh. But his laughter never came, and the room fell into silence. He crossed to a small table, and clicked a switch on the side, making a full bar rotate up into view. The glasses clanked against metal canisters of expensive liquors and mixers. “Calrissian keeps the place well-stocked.” He said. “Help yourself.”

* * *

 

He walked away then, back into whatever room he’d come from. Leia knew this would be a good time to slip away. But, instead, she remained.  The bar proved to be very well stocked indeed, and true to his word, he must not have drunk any of them. Every bottle was still sealed. She knew drinking in a stranger’s room was quite dangerous, but so was everything else she’d done since joining the Rebel Alliance.

Tonight, she didn’t feel much like a rebel. She felt like a twenty-year-old girl with a broken heart. 

“This one is rare,” his voice said, and she spun. She hadn’t even noticed him creeping up on her. He’d changed into a black shirt and plain grey trousers, of a coarsely spun fabric. The clothes made him much more mundane than he’d been in bare skin, though she found she quite missed the view.

The bottle he’d reached for was tall and thin, purple in color. She gave a little gasp of recognition. Alderaanian Star Blossom Wine. A knife of yearning twisted in her gut, aching for all she’d lost, all she still missed. Han had tried to ask her about Alderaan, over the past few weeks, and she’d always closed the conversation. Refused to admit to him how much she missed her home, how desperate she was for any piece of it.  She’d always held back parts of herself from Han. Afraid of rejection as afraid of love.

“You don’t mind… sharing?” Before the destruction, Star Blossom Wine had been expensive, since the flowers took years to mature, and only grew in small glades on Alderaan. They were impossible to farm in greenhouses, though many had tried. These days, a single bottle of Star Blossom wine could buy one a small moon, or a nice ship.

“It’s all for you.” he shrugged. “I’m a simple man. Not much room in my life for Star Blossoms.”

The way his eyes suddenly lingered on her, on the swell of her breasts and down to the curve of her hips, made her realize he didn’t mean just wine.

“What… what is there in your life?”

A cold little smile appeared. “Just my job.”

She knew that feeling well. To become only that which was important to the task at hand, to bottle up all the feelings of a human, and become a single-task-droid, focusing only on work. It’s what she had done for so long, what she’d fallen back into on Hoth.

What Han had snapped her out of.

She realized then, that she could be both grateful to Han for what he’d given to her, and be all right without him now. There were others in the universe. Even the starblossoms, she’d heard, had been found on a few other planets, despite survivors fearing the previous flower was lost to them forever.

Nothing good was lost forever, was what her father used to say.

This right here, with a man smiling at her, and the opportunity for a night of pleasure, this was good too.

“Do you have room in your night for company though?” she asked. “Or do you have to get back to work?”

This time his smile was as real as it was momentary. A flash of a grin that took five years off his face, for the seconds it lasted. “I might. Depends on the company.”

“Just me,” she admitted. Dropped her gaze to the floor, fearing that she might have read all the signals wrong. She’d always been rubbish at contact like this, never in love with those who wanted her and always wanting those who didn’t want her back.

A callused finger under her chin lifted her gaze. She looked up at him, shivering at the first contact. Then, as sudden and powerful as a supernova, he kissed her.

It was a very good kiss.

Not a flawless kiss. Not the way Han kissed, with a perfection that was an art to him, with his hands in all the right places and his mouth with just the right pressure against his lips.

No, this kiss was warm and urgent and a little unsure. It was Leia who offered more, who deepened the kiss with an open mouth, her hand going to the back of his neck to feel his still damp-from-the-shower hair. 

He moved closer, his arms around her waist, holding her to him. The kiss escalated then, as they began to learn what each other liked, each of them answering the loneliness lying under the surface. Finally, they pulled apart, both of them a little flushed, though only Leia panted for breath. He carefully detangled his hand from where it had gotten trapped by some of her escaped locks of hair. 

“Your braid’s messed,” he commented.

“I wonder how that could have happened.” Leia returned his earlier dry tone and was pleased to see just the hint of a blush on his cheek.

He moved to the only chair in the room, then, wordlessly pulling away. Was that the end, then?

No. Not with the way he watched her, as hungry as a Nexu for her. THose dark eyes tracking every movement. So, carefully, Leia shrugged off the silken cape of her outfit, draping it over the edge of the bar table, and then, facing him, slowly undid the braids. First, the one on the left that was already coming undone, and then, the one on the right, leaving just a little of her hair confined to the bun at the back of her head. The chestnut locks tumbled down her shoulders, a curtain of silky waves. She used to wear her hair like this when she’d spun and danced in the halls of a palace now gone forever. When she’d laughed without fear.

Now, there was no fear either. The man across the room leaned forward, desire apparent in both his eyes and… in a section lower on his body. Now, feeling more in control, as if he was the intruder to her own night, Leia just smiled. The blush completely gone, and joy rising inside her body. She picked up the bottle of wine, turning her back on him. Wondering if he would get up once more to come to her.

She poured herself a glass, and he did not come to her. Instead, when she turned, her hair falling back over her shoulder, he was just watching her.

But that was like saying a sun just provided light. Heat emanated from him, smoldering in his eyes, rippling over his powerful frame.

He crooked a finger at her, beckoning her. Leia, warmth t rising in her cheeks once more, moved over to him. The room seemed to shrink suddenly, so it was just the two of them, the walls pressing in around them, almost like that time in the compactor…

Except there was no horrible garbage here. No, if anything, he was everything clean, and fresh, and warm here. 

She so wanted to be warm. Sometimes, it felt as if she had frozen a long time before Hoth. Frozen the moment Vader had given the order, and her world had been lost to her forever.

The wine was bittersweet as she took a long sip, tasting like all she would never have again. But reminding her that there was still beauty in the world, there was still light, if one did not give up.

She wasn’t one to give up. She set down the glass and walked to him.

Carefully, she perched on his lap. He looked up at her, and it was clear he was holding his breath. Leia moved, and kissed him, hard. A tiny groan escaped his lips.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m good at this,” she replied as if the wine had gone straight to her head.

“At what?”

“You know. One night… things.” she mumbled, fighting with the hem of his shirt. Wanting her hands back on that muscular skin she'd seen. 

The wine lay forgotten next to him. For a moment, she considered how wasteful that was, how cruel she was to abandon that bit of her past so quickly. But at this moment, she wanted to think about a future, not all the knife-edged moments of the past. Her hands finally tugged off his shirt, and she splayed her fingers against his strong chest.

“Ah. Well, then, I will trust your expertise.” 

His kisses roamed down her neck, her collarbone. Fingers that were as calcused as hers were soft traced whorls over her back, and then, up to her cheek, before finally, freeing the remaining locks of hair confined in that bun. Clothes fell away from them, as they moved together. 

Soon, she was utter naked in his arms, only her long hair flowing around her, offering the smallest bit of modesty along with a great deal of allure. His hands, though clearly roughed by hard work, were gentle as they cupped her breasts.

She whimpered. “More.” This felt better than anyone had ever felt. But she’d never been this naked, this open to anyone. Han and her had coupled in a private corner of the Falcon, fumbling around clothes and all that neither of them were ever good at talking about.

Han had maybe even tried to tell her, she realized now, about Lando. Had said there were things in his past he wasn’t ready to let go of.

She’d thought she understood.

Now she saw that she had drowned in her past. Had become a living ghost to herself, a reflection of all the grief of a planet. 

Good for Han for reclaiming the past he’d wanted in his future.   
For her, she wanted to forge something completely new. Why did she need to finish the Starblossom Wine? She’d known its taste before, felt its pleasure. There were other wines, other planets, other loves.

It was time for something new.   
It was time for this man, with the dark eyes and the strong hands. The voice like thunder and a smile as rare as a perfect snowflake.

He bent his head, then, to do something Han had never done. To kiss down her chest, to worship her with his mouth, too busy with kissing and tasting to waste time with words. Leia’s pleasure turned to a roar, the whimper now forgotten, as his teeth gently teased her tender skin.

She rocked furiusly in his lap, feeling the pressure of his desire. Craving him, all of him. Not needing anything else. Not even words.

Somehow, they hadn’t needed to talk much, only a few questions. 

_ Like this? _

_ You’re beautiful. _

_ Don’t let go. _

_ Is this all right? _

_ Yes. Yes. Stars and suns, yes. _

She didn’t know his name, so she couldn’t scream it out when the pleasure crested. But she rewarded him with moans and whispers, as much as she did with her nails digging into the muscles of his back and her kisses turning to desperate little bites. 

“Wildcat,” he muttered, but he was smiling as he shifted her so he could unbutton his trousers. That real, genuine smile that had only lasted a second before, now lingered as he pressed into her. It was the sort of smile that she knew had to be rare.

As rare as Starblossom wine.

* * *

 

They ended up in his bed, which was as plain as everything else he seemed to own; his clothes, his lack of any accent. There was no item of personality in any part of the room, not even a pile of laundry in a corner. The room was decorated, just as the bar had been stocked, as if for a guest, which meant perhaps he wasn't a guard. Maybe a visitor's bodyguard?  Though Leia had to admit to herself, when he’d carried her into the bedroom, he’d been sure to close the closet against the opposite wall, holding her awkwardly for a moment to do so.

She tried not to wonder what secrets were there.

She tried not to wonder about anything at all.

In the morning, she knew she’d have to leave. But she lingered a little longer, and when he woke, she was all too easily swayed into another round of pleasure. His body seemed made for hers, the way they fit together. He was so strong but held himself so carefully above her, more in awe than afraid of her small stature. 

Though she was naked, she didn’t feel could, not at all. Especially not when he kissed down her body once more, and this time, the kisses went even lower. Gave her pleasure that she had never even dreamed of. She screamed then, not caring if anyone heard. Knowing now that when neither person was holding back, when one offered all she was, the pleasures returned were ten times better.

Han had offered, and she’d always told him no. Worried he was only offering out of boredom, or duty. She’d never quite believed he wanted her truly, saw her as anything more than a prize to be won.

But she could see him now, as a friend. Could be happy that he had Lando, and she had….

This man. This talented, incredible man, who had settled between her legs as if it was the only place he wanted to be in all the world.

“Like that?” he smiled up at her.

“I like your smile.” she blurted out, and was stunned to be rewarded with a blush that left even his ears pink. He returned to the task at hand, which she had no complaints about. His fingers moved to stroke her, in time with his kisses. Leia then said things far more embarrassing and much more lewd, than any comments about a smile.   
Finally, he came back to his place above her. She kissed him then, not caring about the desire still on his lips, not caring about anything except for the pleasure of these stolen moments. His fingers ran through her long hair, as he nuzzled her neck, his hips rocking himself back into her, slower this time. “You should wear this down more often.”

More often? What an odd phrase for a man who’d only met her a few hours ago.

“It wouldn’t be practical,” she said.

He chuckled then, another silent laugh. The topic cut too close to the fact neither of them knew anything about each other. She had to be practical these days. She was a military leader. Not a princess. Not anymore.

Even though, in his arms, she’d felt a great deal like royalty once more. Someone treasured and valued. Someone powerful. When she’d been a princess, she’d never feared abandonment, nor rejection. So, she neatly rolled them both over, and sat astride him, making him her throne of pleasure for the morning.

He didn’t seem to object at all to her reign of bliss.

Eventually, as they lay skin to skin, both flushed and sweaty, he pulled away. The lack of him spread through her like a shiver. He said, “you should go.”

She didn’t want to, and her little sigh sounded more pitiful than she’d expected.

“I thought you were the expert at the one night stand,” he said, sliding out of bed and pulling on the pair of trousers from the night before. 

“I, um,” Now she recalled bragging about a great deal of prowess at this sort of thing, hiding the fact that she’d certainly never slept with a man without knowing his name. Was it wrong to feel like she knew him,now, though? Knew him in that intimate way, knew him in his gasps of pleasure and secret smiles?

Did he, then, know her too?

“Made all that up,” he said, flatly. 

“Embellished.”

He shook his head. “You are some kind of woman, you know that. Solo’s missing out.”

She froze. “You… you knew his name.” He’d called him the pilot before. 

The moment stretched between them. Slowly, deliberately, he opened the closet he'd shut the night before. A Mandalorian helmet glinted at her, dark green, battered, and utterly unforgettable.

“Yeah. I did.” there was something… almost like regret in his voice. It matched the shame coiling inside her belly, as the realization of exactly who she’d bedded dawned on her. She sat up, then, searching the room. Not as she had the night before, wondering about any small detail of personality for the man she’d wanted. Now, she looked for a weapon to stop the bounty hunter she feared.

But he did not move to put on the helmet she’d thought of as Boba Fett’s only face. Instead, he watched her, as carefully as he had the night before. Slowly, he said, “And you didn’t?”

No. She hadn’t. Not at all.

He made an angry noise. Instantly, Leia lunged, reaching for a nearby vase. She gripped it like a club. “If you try to hurt me…”

He looked up at her. “Sex shouldn’t… it was wrong. For me to know who you were and you not to.”

“Honor? From a bounty hunter?”

“Any more surprising than from a smuggler?” he retorted. But now he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring down at what else was in the closet, the rest of the armor that hide the man she’d slept with.  “Get out of here, Leia. Far away from here, and fast.” He said her name like he’d whispered it to himself before. Like maybe he’d wanted to say it, last night.

“But.” She let go of the vase and stood. Now it was she who crossed the room to him. Because, suddenly, she knew that if he'd offered her his name last night, it wouldn't have changed anything.

“I won’t say it a second time.” He did not look at her.

Wordlessly, she put her hand on his back. He flinched. She kissed his cheek and heard what lay in his words. A gift rarer than any wine. A warning. An escape.  “I’ll make it up to you someday.”

He shook his head. “Make it up to yourself. Do something selfish, Leia.” 

At that moment, she did. Some things needed to happen, no matter if it was the wrong time.

Some wines could only be drank once, cherished, then forgotten.

She kissed him, holding nothing back. Blooming in her warmth for him, becoming that flower of Alderaan, that princess, that young woman who was joyful and light and impractical, for only one timeless moment, before she fled.

  
  



End file.
